


To Chase The Rising Sun

by ISeeFire



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Bilba is a BAMF, Dragon Trainer, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Genderswap, Slow Build, Tiny bit of a crack vibe at times, always a girl bilbo, dragons!, woot!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/pseuds/ISeeFire
Summary: To all of Middle Earth, the hobbits of the Shire are known as those who tame dragons. It is to them that Thorin goes for help against Smaug, and it is them he promptly insults because, seriously, whose idea was it to send Thorin to negotiate?What it says on the tin! The Quest, now with added dragons cause they make everything better! :D :D
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Fíli, Female Bilbo/Fili
Comments: 377
Kudos: 790





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LotteLorelei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotteLorelei/gifts).



> First Off: CHECK IT OUT. I MANAGED TO CREATE A TITLE WITHOUT THE WORD “SHADOW” IN IT. :D :D
> 
> Second: This is a prompt request from @lottelorelei asking for a dragon trainer Bilba. A story popped into my head and I tried really hard to make it a oneshot but it was like “No, I am a full story, WRITE me.” I sent the idea to my beta and she wrote back with “That sounds like a full story, not a oneshot.” SO, full story it is and now I have five going BUT I draw the line at that cause I don’t want a ton of incomplete stories on my account! :D
> 
> I’m going to be posting a Christmas related fic next week called "A Very Frosted Christmas." I posted a snipped of it on my Tumblr ages ago if you want to check it out: https://d3-iseefire.tumblr.com/post/186761512112/a-very-frosted-christmas-excerpt
> 
> After that I have one more prompt request I’m super excited to do and then I shall be switching Writing Wednesdays to Writing Updates Wednesdays so I’ll be back to updating my ongoing stories and you’ll all know when to look for them! :D Thank you all for your patience and kind words as I got everything all sorted out! :) :)

Bilba sat on the edge of her desk in her late father's study and tried to think of a single reason why she shouldn't kill the idiot dwarf that Gandalf had insisted she speak with.

So far, the only thing she could come up with was said wizard, who was currently standing near the door looking increasingly exasperated, might not like it.

That reason was becoming less and less of a deterrent with every word the idiot spoke.

As if he knew what she was thinking, the idiot heaved a sigh that was probably intended to be insulting, as if he hadn't already been doing that from the moment he walked through her front door. "Axe or sword?" he asked derisively. "What's your weapon of choice?"

Bilba allowed her lips to slowly curve into a slow smile. "Teeth."

The idiot, _Thorin_ as Gandalf had introduced him, looked to her shoulder, where Mandar currently perched. The small, mottled brown dragon tilted his head and hissed at the obnoxious dwarf. His tail uncurled from where it had been loosely wrapped around Bilba's throat for balance and he started to move forward only to stop when Bilba held up a hand.

The dwarf chuckled in derision. "Looks more like an oversized lizard." He turned his gaze on the wizard. "I was told the Shire held those who trained dragons, not exotic pets."

Bilba propped a foot on the edge of the chair the dwarf sat in, earning her an entertaining look of annoyance, and deliberately turned her attention to Mandar. "Did you hear that?" She retrieved a strip of dried meat from a pocket and held it up for the tiny creature to delicately take from her hand. "He thinks you're a pet."

That earned another hiss from Mandar, but he obediently curled back up across her shoulders and settled for glaring at the dwarven idiot.

The dwarf crossed his arms and his lips twisted. "This was a waste of time," he complained to the wizard. "We should never have come."

Bilba rose fluidly to her feet. "Then I suppose you should leave, Your _Majesty_." Her tone was purposefully mocking, and she could see by the glint in his eyes that he'd caught it. Honestly, the sheer audacity of his behavior when he'd come to _her_ for help.

She went to her living room and dropped into her armchair set before a roaring fire in the fireplace. Heat from the flames soaked into her skin and she sighed, relaxed into the chair and lightly flexed her hands against the armrests in relief. Her head throbbed and she closed her eyes with a grimace.

Mandar carefully picked his way down to her lap and pushed up on his hind legs, bracing his front claws on her chest. Bilba could feel his face mere inches from hers and absently lifted a hand to scratch the small ridge between his eyes. "I'm all right. Having to deal with outsiders just gives me a headache."

Usually, the Thain dealt with them, on the rare occasion there were any to deal with. Living in Hobbiton, at the heart of the Shire, Bilba rarely ever had to see them, much less speak to them and she preferred it that way. She'd only agreed because Gandalf, an old friend who was soon to be an _ex_ old friend, had asked her _and_ had caught her in a generous mood.

She cracked her eyes open to mere slits as Gandalf sank into the armchair next to hers. "I'm not accustomed to being insulted in my own home, Wizard. He behaves as if I should be honored to be in his very presence."

Gandalf sighed, staring into the flames. "Thorin has been sorely tried this day, and his mood is foul."

"That's no excuse." Mandar chattered at the wizard, adding his own opinion, and Bilba put a hand on his back to settle him. "He should have better control.

Gandalf chuckled. "This from a Shireling?"

Bilba's eyes narrowed. "I'm not the one throwing my rank around. If the dwarf cannot master his own emotions, how can he expect to master anyone else?"

"At the moment he cannot," Gandalf admitted. "As his own lords have refused him the aid he needs to retake their home."

"Given his temperament, it's little surprise." Bilba grumbled.

Gandalf stayed still for several long minutes, studying the fire.”The share of treasure you would inherit is quite substantial,” he finally said. 

Mandar's head popped up, but Bilba remained silent, eyes on the flames. It was true that the Shire could use the gold. The fact the dwarf was so openly offensive proved the Shire's reputation had fallen of late and treasure would go far to rectify that, restore them to what they had once been.

But even so...

"Whatever gold there is has undoubtedly been contaminated by that worm." Bilba's lip curled in distaste. "It probably reeks with his stench." She frowned, remembering some of what Gandalf had told her. "Did you say the thing speaks?"

Gandalf nodded. "He does."

Bilba closed her eyes and dug the fingers of one hand into her temple. "A high dragon," she muttered. "I'd thought they were gone."

"He appears to be the last," Gandalf said but Bilba scoffed.

"You've no idea if that's true. Those in the Withered Heath clearly protected him, or were simply too terrified to give him up." She sighed. She'd always hated the speaking ones. Not only were they a pain to deal with, but they were forever prattling on about their own self-assumed importance. Bilba was quite certain they could bore someone to death just as easily as kill them with flame, tooth or claw.

"It isn't worth it," she decided. Having to deal with the dragon would be bad enough, but having to deal with a mouthy dragon _and_ a petulant king-in-exile? No one should be made to endure that. 

A knock on her front door reverberated through her house, and Bilba ground her teeth together. Why had she agreed to host his entire Company again?

Oh, right. _Gandalf_. The wizard had been a friend of the Shire a very long time and had come to their aid on more than one occasion. Bilba couldn't remember him ever asking for a thing in return so when he'd come to her and requested she hear out this _Thorin_ and host his company for a night she'd felt duty bound to agree.

Next time she'd send them to the Thain no matter what. He had little enough to do as it was. The Shire had no need of anything outside its own borders, and interaction with outsiders usually didn't make it much past a polite "thank you, but no."

She heard the heavy bootsteps of the dwarven idiot heading toward her door and then the loud chatter of far too many dwarves. "How many did you say again?"

Gandalf's look was far too innocent and Bilba grimaced. "You try my patience, Wizard."

"At least speak to them," Gandalf insisted. "You might find yourself surprised."

"I spoke to their representative," Bilba growled. "And I'm considering having Mandar eat them."

In her lap, Mandar lifted his head and puffed out his chest. He was tiny, but motivated, and would do his very best to eat all the dwarves if she wished.

The idea was deeply tempting, but might also give Mandar indigestion so, instead, she stayed silent while Gandalf went to deal with her barely invited guests. She'd prepared food, because _she_ had manners even if they did not, and could soon hear the clatter of dishes and cutlery. The thought she might end up with chipped or broken dishes had her curling her fingers back into the armrests again.

They were invaders, her mind informed her, bursting in and touching her things without permission, disrupting her quiet home with their obnoxious chatter. The insult from earlier rose back in her mind but now it made her even angrier, to think that _anyone_ could feel they had the right to come into _her_ home and disrespect _her_ and...

Another knock sounded on her door and Bilba twitched.

There were _more_?

Just how many was she expected to put up with?

Mandar gave an unhappy peep as she lifted him and set him on her shoulder. She rose from the chair and headed toward the door, fire flickering in her eyes. She sensed the idiot and the wizard approaching and sped up, intending to reach _her_ door before either of them could.

She was going to throw them all out, starting with the ones on her stoop. They could go on their stupid quest without her and, a few months from now, she'd enjoy hearing all about how Smaug had eaten them.

She reached the door steps before the dwarf or wizard, grabbed the handle and flung it open, still picturing all the horrible things that would happen to the idiots, and how utterly entertaining she'd find the retelling.

Granted, the downside would be Smaug becoming even more insufferable, meaning she'd probably have to deal with him at _some_ point but, even so --

Her thoughts trailed off as her mind registered the dwarves standing on her steps. The first was young, dark haired and resembled the idiot far too much in her opinion. She shifted toward the second, planning to dismiss him as quickly as the first -- and her mind went utterly blank.

He was young and well built as most dwarves were, but that was where the similarity to other members of his race ended. Rather than the shades of brown, black or white hair she was used to seeing, _this_ dwarf featured golden blond hair that settled about his shoulders and face. A beard and mustache of the same color covered his jaw, creating an almost halo like effect about him and, Yavanna, why had no one told her dwarves could look like that?

 _Did_ any others, or was he just an aberration?

He had to be an aberration. She'd seen dwarves. The Blue Mountains were _right there_. The snarky bastards were forever using the paths that skirted the Shire's boundaries to get from place to place. Bilba hated outsiders, rarely interacted with them, but she did enjoy walking the paths from time to time and had _seen_ them over the years. 

She'd never seen one like _this_.

A low heat began to snake through her veins, leaving fire in its wake. Her heart began to pound and her breaths grew short.

Dimly, she felt Mandar slowly rise from her shoulder and, ever so carefully, begin to inch his way down her arm. He paused about halfway down, readied himself, and then leapt -- only to squawk in protest as she caught him around the middle with both hands.

The dwarves were talking...someone was talking at least, but she had no idea who or what they were saying over the roaring in her ears. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the dwarf who stood on her doorstep.

On.

Her.

Doorstep.

In the open.

Where anyone might see him.

Where anyone might have _already_ seen him.

Bilba let out a low hiss, transferred Mandar under her arm and then reached with the other to grab his sleeve and yank him in. It was full night outside, which meant everyone was _probably_ inside, but all it would take was one night owl wanting to watch the stars and she'd end up with half of Hobbiton on her doorstep.

Mandar was complaining loudly under her arm and squirming to get out. Suddenly she felt his body puff up and looked down in time to see him throw his head back and open his mouth wide.

Quickly, she grabbed his jaws between her thumb and forefinger and pushed them closed. He glared at her, but she simply stepped fully inside the house and kicked the door closed.

When she turned back _he_ was still there, as were the rest of the dwarves who'd apparently come out to greet the newcomers. It was the first time most of them, aside from the idiot and the wizard, had seen her and, as she continued to stand there holding Mandar, the chatter slowly died off until they were all staring at her.

Mandar was complaining, the sound muffled with her still holding his jaws closed, but the meaning clear enough.

"That what passes for a dragon in the Shire?" A balding, tattooed dwarf asked. Mandar hissed, not appreciating the insult and, normally, Bilba might have responded to it as well but her mind was still stuck on her recent revelation. 

"Apparently so," the idiot-in-exiled rumbled. "I don't believe she will be joining us, however." He crossed his arms and fixed her with a blank look. "We were unable to reach terms."

Bilba twitched, mind suddenly snapping back into focus. She smiled at him, broadly. "That was before I realized you were providing surety. I've changed my mind. I'll take the job."

The dwarf king's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Surety?"

Bilba settled Mandar back on her shoulder to sulk over the closed door and his lack of opposable thumbs, and pointed to the golden blond dwarf. "Him."

For a few seconds dead silence reigned in the small foyer.

Then bedlam, and Bilba found herself wishing she'd simply let Mandar eat them after all.

Well, _almost_ all of them.

Mandar heartily agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

Bilba was once again sitting, this time at her dining room table, feet crossed and propped on the edge. She had her chair pushed back on two legs, and was idly rocking it back and forth a few inches as she listened to the pandemonium her announcement had caused.

From what she could gather the dwarves had not, in fact, been presenting her with surety for her assistance.

The fact they were carrying on to such an extent over the very suggestion was insulting.

Mandar, curled over her crossed arms, quite agreed if the low hissing he was giving off was any indication.

Her eyes drifted back toward Fili, as she’d heard him called. He was speaking quietly with the dark-haired dwarf he’d arrived with, a sight that sent a burst of envy through her unlike anything she’d felt in a very long time.

Unlike his more hysterical counterparts, _he’d_ merely raised an eyebrow at her announcement, and was now sitting comfortably at her table as if nothing at all untoward were happening. The reaction only served to increase her desire to keep him.

The rest were still at risk of being eaten.

“Enough.” She barely raised her voice, but the others fell silent as if the idiot had spoken instead of her.

Strangely enough, he’d been fairly quiet where he sat. He was glowering, which she was beginning to believe was his base expression, and had his arms crossed but was otherwise silent.

She could admit it had raised her estimation of him a little.

A very little.

“I did not invite you into my home and provide you food and shelter to be insulted.” Mandar added his own chatter and hiss before hunkering down to glare at them all.

“You’ve been offered no insult,” the bald one said in annoyance. “If anything it’s us—“

Another dwarf, older and with a more pleasant expression, cut him off. “Our apologies, my Lady. You are correct.”

Bilba studied him, searching for a placating tone, but found none. The older dwarf continued. “I fear we’ve run into a cultural difference. While we are happy to offer surety for your services–” Here there was a shuffling that suggested a lie to his words, “we do not offer our members as collateral. Each of us is free to choose their own destiny.”

Bilba tilted her head idly to one side. “Is that so?” She shifted her gaze toward Thorin. “Did you not declare yourself the king of the dwarves?”

He inclined his head slightly. “I did, and I am.”

Bilba nodded towards Fili. “And is he not your nephew and, therefore, a prince?”

She’d heard him greet the idiot as Uncle soon after her proclamation, right before he’d headed into the kitchen to grab food. It was an unfortunate flaw, but one she was willing to overlook.

Thorin nodded. “Fili is my sister’s son, and my heir.”

Bilba smiled in spite of herself. “Then, as members of a royal family,” she said, tone deceptively mild, “do you not believe in arranged marriages?”

Dead silencee.

Thorin’s eyes narrowed.

I’m giving you your precious mountain back,” Bilba dropped one foot to the ground and pushed against the table with the other until her chair’s balance on its back legs become precarious. “In return, I get my share of the treasure,” she lifted her hand to point at Fili, “and marriage to him as surety.”

Her gaze followed her finger, just in time to see Fili, focused on his plate, fighting back a grin. He found what she was doing amusing rather than offensive or threatening and, damn it all if that didn’t just make her want to keep him even _more_. Wasn’t she the one who’d just been lecturing Gandalf on emotional control?

How ironic.

A babble of voices started to break out yet again but cut off sharply when Thorin barked out a command. “A _royal_ marriage,” he said pointedly, “is called such for a reason. Particularly when it concerns the heir, whose progeny will sit upon the throne after him.”

The older dwarf looked horrified. Gandalf shut his eyes and lowered his head with a sigh while, in Bilba’s arms, Mandar went completely still.

A ribbon of ice threaded it way through Bilba’s veins and, for the first time since Fili had arrived, Bilba felt the fire in her blood settle. Somewhat. In her arms, Mandar grumbled worriedly under his breath and edged his way onto the table, getting clear of her.

"Are you suggesting, your _Majesty_ ,” Bilba started, deceptively calm, “that I’m good enough to risk my life on your behalf, but not worthy of marrying your heir?”

The older dwarf started to speak but Bilba held up a hand and he fell silent. She didn’t want rhetoric from someone clearly versed in it. She wanted the truth.

“Marriage to my heir is not on the table,” Thorin declared flatly.

Bilba cocked an eyebrow, waiting to see if he’d keep talking and insult her further but, surprising her once again, he shut his mouth and went silent. Somewhere, someone must have taught him the basics of diplomacy, even if he had either forgotten most of it or willfully chose to ignore it.

She dropped her other foot on the ground and allowed the front legs of the chair to hit the floor with a bang. She stood and retrieved Mandar from where he was trying to curl into a very small ball on the table. He let out a squeak but didn’t resist.

“I see.” Ice laced her words, and her eyes glittered. “In that case, enjoy the dragon. I have no doubt he’ll enjoy you.”

With that, she walked out of the room.

***

Bilba retreated to a second pantry located down the hall, and well away from the kitchen. It hadn’t been raided quite as badly as the first, leaving a few shelves still stocked. 

She didn’t bother with a lantern but simply pulled the door so that only a slit of the light from the hall shone through. She went to the far back corner, leaned against the wall and sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor. Mandar settled on her lap and she dropped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes with a groan. 

Her gut churned and a low tremor ran over her limbs. Her breathing came in short pants and she forced herself to breathe slowly in through her mouth as deep as possible before releasing it through her nose.

Mandar chattered at her from where he had been staying very small and quiet in her lap.

“No,” Bilba breathed out. He chattered again, hopeful, and she chuckled. “No, you can’t either.” She struggled to relax, pressed her shoulders back into the wall and then groaned in exasperation. “This is ridiculous.“

She’d planned to ultimately say yes before Fili showed up. Thorin was an ass, but she had bigger concerns than him. The Shire could use the gold. The dragon needed to be dealt with eventually and that responsibility would fall on her no matter what. 

She’d intended to let the idiot stew a bit, show him she wasn’t someone he could just push around or treat like an underling, and then _graciously_ agree to go. It was bigger than her, this quest, and there was no room for her ego on it.

That _had_ been her plan.

And then _Fili_ had shown up, and now she and Thorin were both backed into a corner. Neither of them could back down without losing face, and even if Bilba _could_ bring herself to do that…she _wouldn’t_.

It was selfish, but it was the truth.

She wasn’t going without first ensuring Fili was _hers_ and no others.

He already felt like hers, even if she recognized logically that he wasn’t. He’d walked Middle Earth for untold years without her knowing about him and it had been fine, but now that she _did_ know….

Her, and the rest of Hobbiton as soon as the sun rose. 

Mandar clambered off her lap, distracted by the sight of preserved fish on a lower shelf, and Bilba took the opportunity to draw her legs up, wrap her arms around them and drop her head on her knees.

"That bad?”

Bilba jerked her head back up, eyes wide. Several feet away, Mandar’s head also came up, half a fish hanging from his jaws.

Fili stood in the now open doorway, shoulder braced against the frame, arms crossed, and one foot propped in front of the other.

Bilba scowled. No one had snuck up on her in _ages_. She re-crossed her legs and Mandar picked his way back over to settle down with his fish.

“You aren’t supposed to be eating that,” she told the small dragon with a sigh. “Isen and Mara left food for you.”

Mandar gave a happy chatter and continued to eat his fish.

Fili chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest, and Bilba’s stomach twisted in on itself.

 _Mine,_ her mind chanted. _Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine._

"Are they all his size?” Fili asked.

Bilba moved to a crouch, setting Mandar on the ground with his fish, and looked up at him. “Mandar’s a baby. A spoiled, obnoxious, smartass baby.”

Mandar paused long enough to glare at her before returning to his fish. He was very single minded when he wanted to be.

“He’s the only one I’ve seen,” Fili confessed. “I’ve heard tales of the Shire, and half expected to be dodging dragons as we came up the lane.”

“Had you come during the day you might have.” Bilba stood and leaned back against the wall behind her, clasping her hands at the small of her back. “Dragons sleep at night.” She gave a pointed look at Mandar. “Unless they’re very young and refuse to go so sleep when they’re told.”

That earned her a long stream of chatter from the tiny dragon that Bilba ignored. Instead she studied Fili. it was the first time she’d really had a chance to stand and look at him without distractions and, she had to say, upon closer inspection he did not disappoint.

He was taller and bigger than her, which was to be expected, with a strong, athletic body. The way he held himself spoke of confidence, if not outright cockiness, and she had no doubt the weapons he carried weren’t just for show.

His hair was just as beautiful as the first time she’d seen it and, combined with his voice, created an overall portrait that was simply breathtaking.

Fili cleared his throat, eyes flicking downward, and Bilba followed his gaze to see Mandar slowly trying to creep his way past into the hallway. With a “tsk,” she grabbed the small dragon by the hind legs and hauled him back in.

He complained, loudly, but she found a fish he’d missed on a higher shelf and handed it to him.

“Is it really that important?” Fili asked suddenly. “Marrying someone you’ve never met?”

Bilba’s eyes shifted toward him and then back to Mandar. “Do you think I’m simply going to walk into Erebor and demand the dragon leave?” She wrapped her arms around Mandar and held him up toward Fili. “Dragons have minds, and wills, of their own.”

“Then what will you do?” Fili asked with a frown.

Bilba shrugged. “I’ll most likely have to force him out.” She settled Mandar on a shelf near her and faced Fili. “I’ll be putting my life on the line, and all for someone who sees me as unworthy of marrying his heir.” Mandar, finished with his fish, and leapt off onto her back. “So, yes, it is that important.”

Fili pushed off the door frame and stood straight, feet set apart and arms crossed. “And what do you get out of marrying me?”

“Bragging rights,” Bilba said dryly. That and she got to ensure no one else could ever have him, but he didn’t need to know that.

He chuckled, looked down to hide a grin and shook his head. When he looked back up he almost had his expression neutral. “And if you marry me and fail to secure Erebor?”

Bilba shrugged. “Then you’ll be free to do as you wish.”

Most likely because, in that case, she’d probably be dead.

Fili’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he saw through what she’d just said and her estimation of him, which was already high, went up another few notches.

On a whim, Bilba stepped closer to him, near enough she could feel heat radiating from his body. Dwarves ran hotter than the other races, but she’d never been near enough to one to realize _just_ how much hotter.

She was beginning to regret not having had more contact with outsiders.

“Here.” She coaxed Mandarin onto her arm. At her urging, Fili gave her a startled look, but then held his own arm out.

Mandar grumbled, but obediently stepped over and onto Fili’s arm where he wobbled a bit as he turned around to face back toward her. He crouched, using the claws at the tip of his wings to anchor himself, and wrapped his tail around Fili’s arm,all the way up to the shoulder.

Mandar gave Bilba a baleful look that suggested he was expecting _all_ the fish in return for this.

“Oh, hush,” Bilba whispered, lightly stroking his head. “It’s not that bad and you know it.”

Mandar begged to disagree but he suffered in silence. Fili, eyes wide with wonder, tentatively put a hand on Mandar’s head where Bilba showed him and scratched his eye ridge. Mandar did his very best to remain unimpressed but Bilba saw him put his head up in appreciation and to get a better scratch.

“He’s heavier than I thought he would be,” Fili murmured.

“You get used to it.” Bilba put her arm out and Mandar happily swarmed back, up her arm and into place on her shoulders.

Fili studied the little dragon. “You’re sure you can take care of Smaug?”

“I’m sure that I’m the only chance you have,” Bilba said, which both was, and was not, an answer.

Fili nodded. “All right.” His eyes met hers and Bilba felt that fire reignite at the intensity in them. “In that case, I accept your proposal.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-dah! I had been planning to update this one later but I had several people request it so I moved it up in the update list! :D

"I don't like this."

Fili ignored his brother and continued to carefully plait the standard four braids back into his hair. It was still wet from the bath, but it would have to do.

It wasn't what he'd expected to be doing, even after accepting Miss Baggins' proposal. For some reason, he'd been convinced they'd have a long betrothal and marry after reclaiming the mountain.

When he'd said as much to Miss Baggins she'd given him a baleful look and said, "do you understand what surety is?"

The deadpan tone had been unnecessary, in his opinion, as had what he was sure was a snide remark Mandar had chirped at him.

In any event, it had been left to him to explain to his uncle that he'd agreed to Miss Baggins' terms in return for her guarantee that she'd rid Erebor of its dragon infestation (her words).

Before his uncle could say something that would probably get them all exiled from the Shire, Balin and Dwalin had unceremoniously grabbed him and dragged him outside. Fili had no idea what was said but, when his uncle returned, he'd grudgingly given his blessing.

After that, Miss Baggins had shown him to a room with an attached bath as he refused to attend his impromptu wedding covered in the dirt and grime of travel. He'd bathed quickly and had barely exited into the small room when Kili had barged in to let him know exactly what he thought about the whole thing.

In some respects, he was worse than Thorin.

"You don't have to like it." Fili scowled at his tunic before grabbing it to pull over the trousers and boots he'd already put on. It was an extra one he'd packed, which meant it was fresher, but it didn't mean it was _clean_. 

"She can't just force you to marry her!" Kili argued. He was standing in the open doorway of the room, arms crossed, and eyebrows drawn together in the way he got when he was particularly agitated.

"She's not forcing me," Fili corrected. He reached for the first of his weapons and strapped it on. He'd left his swords and a few of the larger pieces at the front door but kept the rest on. He was so used to them that not having them on left him feeling exposed. "She made an offer and I accepted it. I could have walked away."

"You _should_ walk away," Kili insisted, making a slashing gesture with his hand. "We don't need her."

"Then why did we even come here?" Fili demanded. His fingers caught on a knot in his hair and he growled as it pulled at his scalp. "This entire thing is predicated on our ability to get the help from the Shirelings. Without her we don't have a chance."

"Then we'll ask someone else for help," Kili insisted. "Someone who doesn't have unreasonable demands."

"At which point you'd find out I _was_ the reasonable one," a voice said dryly from the hall just behind Kili.

He and Fili both turned as one to see Miss Baggins lounging against the wall on the far side of the narrow corridor, arms crossed, and one foot idly propped in front of the other. Mandar was sitting upright on her shoulder, tail draped behind her neck and trailing down her opposite arm.

Fili cursed under his breath. Wonderful. Barely a half hour and his uncle and brother had both managed to insult her. He was pretty sure it was a new record. "Our apologies," he said, with a glare at his brother when the other looked about to object. "My brother meant no disrespect. He's simply concerned--"

He trailed off as Miss Baggins pushed upright and came to stand in the doorway. She behaved as if Kili wasn't there, forcing him to step back and make room for her. Mandar hissed at him but settled for glaring when Miss Baggins hushed him.

Unlike him, Fili noted, she appeared to have made no changes. Her dark hair was still tied back into a low bun and she wore the same trousers, boots and blouse she'd had on when they'd first met.

She tilted her head, nodding down the hall toward the living room. "We're ready for you."

"I'll be right there," Fili promised. She nodded and left, Mandar chattering away at her.

Kili shook his head. "Mom and Dad are going to be pissed."

Fili flinched. "They'll understand I did my duty." He frowned at his brother. "Miss Baggins isn't a monster, Kili. You don't have to act as if this is some sort of death sentence."

"You have no idea what kind of person she is," Kili retorted. "For all you know, she could be planning to kill you in your sleep."

"Well, that would just be stupid," Miss Baggins' voice called from down the hall. "I wouldn't do it here. I'd wait until we were in the woods and blame it on a wolf."

Fili shut his eyes and forced himself to count to ten. Twice. Then he opened them and, with a pointed look at his brother, strode past him and out of the room. 

Time to get this over with before Miss Baggins' good humor gave out.

At the rate his uncle and brother were going he seriously doubted _he_ was the one in danger of being killed in his sleep.

***

The ceremony was brief.

His uncle went first and had them both recite the traditional vows before each had a small piece of hair cut. The two sections were then braided together, blessed and thrown into the fire to symbolize that their union was eternal, forged in fire and unbreakable.

It was at that exact moment, as he watched the braid disintegrate in the flames that Fili finally, truly _got_ the enormity of what he'd just done.

He'd always been taught that the decision to marry was important and not something to rush into. You chose once and that was it, so you'd better be certain of the choice you'd made. He'd agreed for the good of his people, and to fulfill his duty as their future king and he was confident it had been the right decision.

But watching that braid disintegrate took that decision and really drove home the truth of what he'd agreed to do.

The finality.

The enormity.

 _Eternal_.

He now had a _wife_. A woman he'd be expected to care for, protect and stand by for all the rest of his days. Every day he'd wake up next to someone who would be his companion, his confidant, someone who was going to know him potentially better than anyone else.

One day there even existed the possibility of _children_ that would be looking to him as their father.

It was such a _massive_ change to his life and the realization that he'd agreed to it so flippantly, that it had happened so _quickly_ rocked him.

It was while he was still trying to process the whole thing that Gandalf stepped forward to perform a ceremony in the tradition of the Shire.

It too, was incredibly short. 

Too short, really, given what it represented.

"Do you, Fili, son of Vili, take Miss Baggins as your mate, to fight for tooth and claw, to guard as your most precious treasure, for now and all the days to come?"

Fili agreed. Or at least he thought he had. His throat was dry and his heart hammered as if he faced a legion of orcs but he must have gotten some form of assent out because the vow was repeated to Miss Baggins who appeared as calm and unflappable as she'd been the first time he'd seen her.

Less than an hour ago.

He heard her agree and then Fili went from starting his day single to ending it married. 

Throughout it all, he could feel the presence of the rest of the company standing in silence behind him, all but Kili who'd been making disapproving noises throughout. 

Fili felt as if he had a better understanding of why they disapproved so strongly.

He'd been thinking of Erebor and the greater good.

They'd been thinking of him, and the magnitude of what he'd agreed to do.

In the end, none of it mattered though, did it? What was done was done. If it led to them getting back Erebor it'd be worth it, wouldn't it?

Besides, it was as he'd told Kili, it wasn't like he'd married a monster.

He'd just married a complete stranger was all.

He turned toward her to say...something, but the spot next to him stood empty.

He thought perhaps she'd had the same realization he had and wished for some time to process, but that belief was soon dispelled by the sound of Mandar chattering in the kitchen and her answering him in a low voice.

Fili stayed where he was, unsure of what he should do next.

Several members of the Company came forward to congratulate him. Most of them seemed uncomfortable, particularly those he didn't know as well and had only really meant about the same time he'd met Miss Baggins. The only exception was Nori who seemed to be fighting a grin as if he found the entire thing hilarious.

"What's done is done," his uncle said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now let's hope she can hold up her end of the bargain."

He wandered off, which left Fili facing his brother. Kili had his arms crossed and his eyes were dark. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I, little brother," Fili said with feeling. "So do I."

***

An hour later, Fili wasn't entirely convinced the marriage had even taken place. It had felt surreal when it happened, and the passage of time hadn't changed that feeling.

He'd barely seen his new wife since they'd exchanged vows. Her near obsession over him had seemingly evaporated as soon as they were married. Suddenly, he was being treated no differently than any other member of their group, as if the ceremony had never even taken place.

Thinking she was still adjusting to her new, married status, he'd held back and tried to give her space as she began to show everyone where they could bed down for the night. His uncle and Gandalf were given rooms, while the rest of the group were shown to spots in the living room or office area.

He and Kili were left standing off to the side, a fact Fili didn't think much about, until she gestured them to follow her down the hall. She shoved the door open to the small room he'd used earlier and said, "you two can sleep here." Then, before Fili could react, she turned and walked out.

Fili followed and saw her stop at a door set in the very end of the hall. She started to turn the knob, only to pause as Mandar chattered at her. "Really?" she said to him. "You couldn't have reminded me earlier?" Mandar made an apologetic noise, and Miss Baggins sighed. She spun back around and headed toward the front of the house, passing by Fili as if he wasn't even there.

"Did she just kick you out of her room before you even got in?" Kili asked from behind him.

"It would appear she did," Fili said. What in the world was going on? She demanded he marry her, immediately, and then promptly ignored him? "Perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot." Maybe she'd had time to think about the _numerous_ times his family had insulted her and started to rethink him as a result. He honestly wouldn't be able to blame her.

"You don't know one another enough to know which foot is which," Kili grumbled. "This could be her in a _good_ mood."

Fili frowned. Then he very deliberately went and dropped his pack on the ground outside of what he assumed was her door. He set his jaw and faced the direction she'd gone. "Wish me luck."

Kili snorted. "I think you're going to need more than that." He shook his head and shut the door, leaving Fili in the hall.

Fili sighed and headed back toward the living room. The lanterns had been turned to a dim glow, leaving the area little more than a shadowy chamber filled with various sleeping lumps. Fili didn't see Miss Baggins but a light breeze from the kitchen caught his attention and he followed it to the open back door of the smial.

Through it, he could see Miss Baggins standing on the paving stones that made up her back porch. Mandar was perched on her forearm, wings outstretched. As Fili drew near, he could hear her speaking to him in a low voice. 

"You don't go higher than the hill and you stay in the field, do you understand?"

Mandar chirped at her and flapped his wings, bobbing up and down on her arm.

She started to say something else but stopped as Mandar caught sight of him and chirruped. Miss Baggins didn't turn, but he saw her head incline slightly toward him. Taking it as permission, Fili went to stand near her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She scowled at him and then gently grabbed the edge of Mandar's wing and stretched it out. "It's important for younger dragons to fly as much as possible when they're growing. Otherwise the wings can end up weak or deformed." Her scowl deepened and her eyes narrowed at the small dragon. "Usually this is done in groups, during the day while supervised but _someone_ forgot to remind me he hadn't done it today."

Mandar settled back on her arm and chattered at her. Fili had no idea what he'd said but, judging from his smug tone and Miss Baggins's irritated tsk, he imagined it was smartass.

"Fifteen minutes," Miss Baggins growled. She crouched just a bit and then stood up quickly, thrusting her arm up as she did. Mandar leapt off, wings snapping out and fell into a low glide down the hill and into the large clearing below the hill. It was a full moon and the area was lit enough that they could see him as a tiny, shadowy dot darting back and forth low over the grass.

Miss Baggins settled back on her heels, arms crossed, and eyes fixed on the tiny dragon. As he stood next to her, Fili struggled to think of something, anything to say to try and break the ice. His mind chose that moment to go completely blank and, as the minutes stretched, it became harder and harder to think of anything to say.

Before he knew it, Mandar was flying back up the hill. Miss Baggins held her arm out and he landed on it in a whirl of wings, tiny chest heaving, large eyes almost snapping with unrestrained energy and excitement.

Miss Baggins carried him inside, and Fili followed, pulling the door closed behind them.

The only noise that greeted them as they entered the living room was the quiet breathing of the rest of the company. The hallway was dark as well, the only light the faintest flicker coming from under Miss Baggins' door.

Miss Baggins paused before it and frowned down at the pack he'd left earlier. "What's this?"

"My pack," Fili explained. He reached past her to grab it and dragged it over his shoulder.

"Your pack?" Miss Baggins repeated blankly. "I gave you the room with your brother."

"That you did," Fili agreed, keeping his tone even. "Is it not customary in the Shire for a husband and wife to share a bedroom?"

He realized as he was speaking that it might in fact _not_ be a custom in the Shire for all he knew. Some humans, he knew, had odd customs where couples would each have their own room connected by a common room between them. Fili had always found it the strangest thing. Why marry someone and then not wish to share a room with them?

Even as he thought it, however, he realized that couldn't be the case here. Miss Baggins hadn't offered him an adjoining room. She'd offered him an entirely different room, which meant...he had no idea what it meant.

She blinked at him. Fili met her eyes and returned her gaze steadily.

"I don't like strangers in my bedroom," she said finally. Her voice was low, and it was almost as if she weren't even talking to him, but to herself.

Then you shouldn't have married me, Fili thought. He didn't say it, but simply raised an eyebrow, trusting her to see the ridiculousness in her own words.

Mandar chattered something and she made a sound that was halfway between disgust and annoyance. Then, with an irritated look at him, she grabbed the doorknob. "I don't like _strangers_ in my room," she repeated, locking eyes with him.

Fili's eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of what she was saying. "I won't allow anyone else in," he said slowly. "Just you, and me."

She didn't respond, but it must have been the right thing to say because, with a grumble, she shoved the door open.

Fili was almost immediately hit with a wave of heat. It rolled out into the hallway, washed over him, and instantly raised a layer of sweat on his skin. He almost, _almost_ changed his mind about entering, until he happened to look over at Miss Baggins. She was watching him with a knowing look, and he realized she _expected_ him to back down.

Fili raised his chin, set his shoulders back and then casually sauntered past her into the room. As he crossed the threshold he felt the wooden floorboards give way to a thick, plush carpet under his boots.

The room itself was dim, lit mainly by the roaring fire in the fireplace, and then two small lanterns set on stands on either side of an enormous bed piled high with blankets and pillows. Other than that, the only other furniture in the room was a dresser, overstuffed chair near a bay window adorned with thick, velvet curtains and more pillows, and then a large vanity and a trunk at the foot of the bed.

Fili only vaguely noted all that as his mind was instantly assaulted by the sheer number of _things_ crammed into the room. Every drawer of the dresser was overflowing with clothing, the vanity was so cluttered he couldn't see the surface and a closet was so stuffed with _things_ he doubted the door could be closed. Most of what he could see appeared to be trinkets, boxes, lamps, figurines and a random assortment of items.

Even the floor was cluttered with necklaces, earrings, rings and other bits and pieces of jewelry glittering under the flickering light from the fire.

"Boots off," Miss Baggins ordered as she went past where he was frozen in the doorway, her feet already bare. "You'll damage my carpet."

Wordlessly, Fili knelt to pull his boots off, set them outside the door in the hall next to where she'd set hers and then, steeling himself, shut the door to the room. The heat felt like it increased immediately, and he bit back a sigh. He'd asked for this, he reminded himself.

As Miss Baggins went past her bed, Mandar crouched low on her arm, wiggled in preparation and then leapt off onto the mattress. He sank into the mound of blankets until Fili could barely see his head poking up. He half bounced, half swam to the top of the bed where he promptly burrowed under the blankets and vanished from sight.

Miss Baggins went to the dresser and started rooting through it, pulling out clothing and tossing pieces to the ground when they weren't what she wanted. Fili continued to look at her room, his eyes struggling to process everything that was in it. Scattered amongst the clothing, knickknacks and jewelry he was surprised to see several weapons. He spotted a dagger that looked interesting and retrieved it to take a closer look.

At the dresser, Miss Baggins froze. She looked over her shoulder at him, an odd light in her eyes, before she gave herself a shake and turned back to what she had been doing.

Fili, still in a crouch from picking up the dagger, watched her a moment or two and then turned his attention to the weapon. It had real weight to it, with a hilt of twisted gold, silver and bronze. It was one of the simpler pieces, lacking the jewels adorning many of the others he could see.

It was also very well cared for. Everything in the room was, as a matter of fact. All the weapons appeared sharp with gleaming hilts and polished stones. None of the clothing appeared to have as much as a stain or tear in it, and he couldn't see a single figurine or furniture item that had as much as a scratch. 

Miss Baggins finally found what she was looking for, dragged it out and threw it over the end of her bed. She then, without hesitation, unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her shoulders to land on the ground behind her. She pulled her trousers off and headed to the bed in her smallclothes, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Fili was even there. 

She grabbed the item she'd thrown on the bed, picked it up and shook it out in preparation to put it on. A shift, Fili's distracted mind informed him as she pulled it over her head. A thin, ivory colored, sleeveless shift that fell to just above her knees and hugged her body in a way that only increased his distraction.

She reached behind her head and, a moment later, thick waves of amber hair were falling across her shoulders and down her back to stop just below her waist. Suddenly the dour, sarcastic, dragon toting owner of Bag End was gone leaving a _very_ attractive young woman behind.

Or at least until she raised her eyes to glare at him but, even then, the image was only muted rather than dispelled. 

"How old are you?" Fili blurted without thinking. He'd thought her older earlier but, now, he felt she was probably younger than him by a few years.

"Old enough." Her scowl deepened. "Are you planning to stand there all night?"

With a start, Fili realized that, aside from retrieving the dagger, he'd pretty much just been standing by the door holding his pack since he'd come in. He set the dagger back on the ground and slowly lowered the pack to sit next to it. 

He shrugged his jacket off and began to remove the various weapons he'd been wearing. He was mildly concerned she'd be offended at him being armed in her house, but she simply drifted over, dropped into a crouch near him and began to inspect the weapons as he removed them and piled them up. 

Fili pulled out the last weapon, a short knife he wore at the small of his back and put it down. Then he grabbed the hem of his tunic and, in one easy movement, pulled it over his head and dropped it over his pack. The room was hot after all and the more relief he could get the better.

Miss Baggins finished studying his last weapon and pushed to her feet. Her eyes slid over him, and then she simply turned away and headed toward her vanity.

Well, that stung, Fili thought. He was aware that members of his own race found him attractive, but it hadn't occurred to him to wonder if Shirelings, or Miss Baggins in particular, would. Of course, if she _didn't_ then it raised an interesting question.

"Why did you marry me?"

Miss Baggins ignored him. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror and picked up a large, ornate looking brush from somewhere on the table. She stared at it for a few seconds, and then suddenly spun to face him. "Do you sleep with those braids in?"

"What?" Fili asked in confusion.

She gave an annoyed huff, put the brush down and came to stand in front of him. She reached up, hesitated, and then lightly ran her fingers down one of the braids that he wore on either side of his face. "Your braids. Do you sleep with them in?"

Her voice was soft and that, combined with the hesitation when she'd first reached out, were the first cracks he'd seen in her armor. Taking the opportunity, Fili put his hand lightly over hers where it was still touching the braid. "Not usually. Except for the ones in my mustache."

Her eyes flickered to his, and he was startled at the sheer guilelessness in them. She wasn't trying to seduce him, probably didn't even realize her actions could be seen in such a way. It was such a sharp contrast to the in control, fearless persona she'd presented earlier and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

"Why not?" she asked.

"They're a pain in the ass," Fili explained. "I keep them oiled. It lessens how often I have to redo them."

From under the covers on the bed, he heard Mandar start chattering quietly, repeating the same sort of sound over and over again. Miss Baggins let out an aggrieved sigh and rolled her eyes.

Guessing at the problem, Fili chuckled and said, "I'll sneak you fish for the rest of your life if you promise to never repeat that word, Mandar."

An excited squawk came from the covers before the small dragon settled down again.

"He'll hold you to that," Miss Baggins said. She sounded distracted, eyes looking off into the distance without seeming to see anything.

Wanting to pull her back to the moment, Fili lightly pulled her hand off the braid and encouraged her to run her fingers over the ones in his mustache. "See?" he said softly. "Oiled."

Her eyes came back to him and narrowed. Her fingers ran gently down the slender braid, before her other hand went back to the ones in his hair, considering the difference in feel and texture. "Can I take them out? The bigger ones?"

Fili raised an eyebrow. "I suppose." A thought occurred to him. "If you'll allow me to braid your hair in return."

She paused. "Why?"

Fili shrugged. "I could ask you the same question."

She whispered something under her breath and then nodded. "All right."

Fili put his arms at his side. "Go ahead then."

Her eyes slid off him and back to his hair. She bounced a little on her heels and reached for the nearest braid. Fili held still as she figured out how to remove the bead. She finally got it off and held it up between two fingers, studying the intricate details. "Do these mean anything?"

Impressed she'd thought to ask, Fili retrieved the bead and showed her the individual carvings. "This shows I'm from the line of Durin. This one shows I'm the oldest son in my family and, this one, shows that I'm my uncle's heir."

"Did you do them?" As she spoke, she undid the braid, gently enough to not pull on the strands, and went to work on the next one.

"I did," Fili said, not bothering to disguise the pride in his voice. He'd done them for his Coming of Age ceremony where his uncle, as the head of the family and the leader of Ered Luin, had symbolically presented them to him and braided them into his hair for the first time.

"They're pretty," she whispered, eyes intent. She handed him the second bead, and then the third and fourth. After, she reached behind him and undid his hair clasp. It was simpler than the beads, carved with a rune that recognized him as Erebor's heir.

His hair fell down on either side of his face and Miss Baggins' eyes fixated on it. She handed him the hair clasp and then ran both her hands through his hair, watching as it ran through her fingers before repeating the process.

Fili's eyes narrowed as a suspicion started to grow in his mind. "Did you marry me because of my hair?"

"I've never seen this color before," she murmured. Her eyes flickered to his. "Are you the only one?"

He wasn't, but Fili had no intention of telling her that. Thanks to a lucky strike from an orc, his father walked with a severe limp that had kept him from joining the quest. If she was this obsessed with him over his hair, he didn't want to imagine how she'd have reacted to seeing him and his father.

"It's like liquid gold," Miss Baggins' said softly. She'd put one hand on his shoulder without seeming to notice and was still running the other through his hair. She was gentle with it, Fili noted, not tugging or pulling on any knots she encountered.

Deciding to push his luck, Fili lightly picked up one of the thick strands of amber hair lying across her shoulder. She started in surprise and looked to where he was lightly wrapping her hair around a finger. This close, and in the flickering light from the fire, Fili could her she had lighter and darker streaks running through it, some gold in color, others ranging from russet orange to deep reds.

"Yours is beautiful too," he said softly. He allowed the hair to run over his hand, back to rest on her shoulder. "Like a river of molten fire."

"Is it?" She picked up the strand he'd touched, frowning at it before letting it fall from her fingers.

"You don't think so?" Fili asked.

She shrugged. "It's just hair."

Fili chuckled. "So is mine."

Her eyes narrowed. "No, it's not." She paced away from him suddenly, before spinning back around to face him. "Why are you here?"

"Excuse me?" Fili asked. "You know why."

"No, I--" she ran a hand through her hair, pushing the thick mass away from her face only to have it fall back into place immediately. "I gave you the room with your brother."

"We're married," Fili said patiently. "Married couples share a room." At least in his culture but she hadn't contradicted him when he'd said it to her earlier.

She shook her head. "You don't know me. Why are you doing this?"

"Because we're married," Fili repeated patiently. He went to her and stood just a little closer than was completely necessary. She barely came up to the bottom of his chin. "You realize that, don't you?"

"Of course," she grumbled. She'd crossed her arms and had her head down, focused on the carpet.

"Do you?" Fili asked gently. He was beginning to get an idea of her, not a clear one, but it was a start. Like having pieces from one of the wooden puzzles children played with and trying to put it together without knowing the picture it was supposed to create. He put the tips of his fingers on the side of her face and gently ran them back into her hair, nudging her head up to look at him as he did. "You're a bit impulsive, aren't you?" She growled under her breath and he knew he'd hit the mark. Something inside him settled and he could feel his wavering confidence beginning to restore itself. "You've heard that before, haven't you?"

She spun away from him. "I'm going to bed."

"You promised I could braid your hair," Fili reminded her.

She froze mid-step. For a second, Fili thought she'd reject him, but then she stomped over to the small bench in front of the vanity and sat down on it.

Fili moved behind her and leaned past her to retrieve the brush she'd been holding earlier. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder for balance and, as he did, he noticed it was just a bit thinner than he'd have expected. A closer look at her in the mirror revealed just a hint of gauntness in her face, the slightest hollowness in her cheeks and tightness around her jaws and chin.

He started to say something, only to see her eyes meet his in the mirror. For an instant, he saw the barest hint of uncertainty in her eyes before it vanished once again, hidden under a mask of bland neutrality. 

Settling back on his feet, Fili carefully began to run the brush through her hair, gently working out knots and tangles in each section before moving onto the next.

"You only married me for Erebor," she said suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"I did," Fili agreed, as he continued to draw the brush through her hair. In the mirror he could see her shoulders beginning to relax. "But it's not the only reason I said yes."

"Then why did you?" she asked in confusion.

"The way you treated Mandar." He slowed the rate of his brushing, and saw her eyes slowly grow heavy lidded.

"Why did that matter?" Her voice sounded tired and she started to lean back, only to catch herself and sit upright with a frown.

"It showed you were kind," Fili said, keeping his tone soft. "Which meant there was a chance to make our union a true marriage."

"A true marriage?" she asked blankly.

"Two people supporting one another." he explained. "Who can always trust one another, rely on one another. My parents are like that. Their lives are entirely intertwined to the point I sometimes wonder where one ends and the other begins."

"That makes no sense," she cut in, voice more awake. "And you shouldn't trust anyone that much. They'll only use it against you."

"Not everyone will," Fili said. "You just need to trust the right people."

She snorted in derision and fell silent. Fili set the brush down and sectioned her hair into three plaits to begin braiding. He'd have liked to have done something more complicated, but he had the feeling he'd pushed her far enough for the time being.

Instead he pulled the sections back and began braiding them, making sure to keep the strands separate and loose enough to not pull on her scalp. He reached the end and started to look for a tie, only to find her holding one up, pinched between two fingers. He took it and quickly tied off the end of the braid before letting it drop lightly against her back.

He then rested his hands on her shoulders and began to lightly massage them, slowly working to the juncture of her neck and back out again.

She tensed at first, but then began to relax again, her eyes sliding almost completely closed. "I don't understand you," she said after a few minutes. "I thought you'd be happy to be left alone."

"I want what my parents have," Fili explained, meeting her barely open eyes in the mirror. "I married you to save Erebor, but also because I had the hope we might some day be able to have that."

"All because I was nice to Mandar?" she asked. "That seems like a leap."

"Maybe to some," Fili agreed. He didn't point out that she'd already proven his initial assessment of her. She'd had several chances to reject him but hadn't. She'd kept her word about letting him braid her hair and allowed him the freedom to move about her room and examine what he wished.

She might project a hardened persona, and probably had reason for it, but underneath was a kind, fair, honorable young woman. It was more than enough to build a foundation on. He couldn't promise they'd end up like his parents, or anywhere close, but he was confident he could build a relationship with her, of friendship at least if nothing more.

Under his hands, she tensed suddenly, and her eyes snapped open. She sat up and Fili didn't resist as she pulled away from him and stood.

She scowled. "I don't need a companion like that," she said tersely. "And I don't need a husband."

"Then you shouldn't have married me," Fili replied calmly.

Her eyes darkened. Then she shook her head and went to, thankfully, bank the fire. After that she turned one of the lanterns down before pulling the blankets back and climbing into the bed. She curled up on her side and the lump that was Mandar quickly scurried over to curl against her stomach.

Fili went to the other side of the bed and lowered the light in the second lantern before pulling the covers back and climbing into the far side of the bed. She made no comment and, again, he felt his spirit settle and his confidence increase.

He stretched out on his back, put an arm under his head and draped the other across his stomach. "Do you mind if I call you Bilba?" he asked in a low voice.

There was silence for a second and then, "what have you been calling me?"

"Miss Baggins," he answered. "In my head at least."

Silence again, and then, "Bilba is fine."

"All right then, Bilba," Fili said. "Last question. Do you find me attractive? Besides my hair."

This time she was quiet for so long he almost thought she'd fallen asleep. Then, in a voice so quiet he almost didn't catch it, she said, "Yes, but it doesn't mean anything. I still don't want a husband."

Fili chuckled. "I suppose I should be grateful you didn't just throw me in the closet with the rest of your baubles."

"The closet is full," she scoffed. "I'd have probably put you in the corner and used you as a hat rack."

"That would have covered my hair," Fili said reasonably.

"True." Her voice sounded heavy and only half awake. "Maybe a coat rack then."

"Does it even get cold enough here to need a coat?" he asked.

There was no answer from her, and, upon listening, he could hear the steady, slow sound of her breathing in sleep.

He chuckled, settled into the mattress and closed his eyes.

It was a start, he decided. She wasn't thrilled that her latest acquisition had a mind of his own, but she wasn't outright rejecting him either.

He could work with that.


	4. Chapter 4

Fili awoke to a heavy weight on his chest. 

He carefully lifted the edge of the blanket and peered under to find Mandar sprawled across his torso. The small dragon’s legs were draped over his sides and his head was resting on Fili’s collarbone. 

In retrospect, Fili decided he probably shouldn’t have been surprised.

What _did_ surprise him was the sight of his new wife curled up and pressed into his side. She was completely under the blanket, and seemed entirely content with the heat that had built up under the covers. 

Fili, however, was _not_ content with the heat, both from the blanket and the room. Even with the fire banked it was stuffy and he had a longing to feel any kind of air circulation. 

He began to slowly inch himself toward the edge of the bed, but paused when Mandar shifted. The tiny creature lifted his head blearily, blinked at him a few times and then, with a tired mutter, scooted to the side until he slid off Fili’s chest. He landed on the bed where he proceeded to curl up against Bilba’s stomach and promptly fall asleep again. 

Fili got out of bed, and grimaced at the sweat coating his body and hair. He needed a bath, but doubted there would be time. The early morning sun was already shining through the slits in the shutters and he knew his uncle would be getting ready to leave. Personally, he didn’t think it would make much difference if they left now or in an hour or two but, then, he wasn’t the one in charge.

Not bothering to throw on a shirt, Fili headed straight for the door and opened it to a welcoming burst of fresh air from the rest of the house. He stepped into the hall, pulled the door shut behind him and sagged against it with a groan of relief. 

He worked in _forges_ for Mahal’s sake, often for hours and couldn’t remember ever being so grateful to get out of the heat. 

A low whistle reached him, and he opened his eyes to see Bofur smirking at him from further down the hall. 

Fili’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Lay off.”

Bofur shrugged good-naturedly. “Just saying it looks like you had a good night is all.”

Fili’s eyes narrowed at the other dwarf’s crassness and he pushed off the door. “I’d thank you to remember she’s my wife, not some trollop I met in a bar.”

Bofur had the good grace to look abashed. “Sorry, Lad. Bombur’s always saying I tend to speak faster than I think.”

Fili gave a short nod and moved past him, clapping him on the shoulder as he did to show him there was no lasting harm done. 

As he’d suspected, there was quite a bit of activity in the living room as everyone packed up and readied themselves to leave. The smell of frying bacon and eggs emanated from the kitchen and Fili was just about to head that direction when a strange, out of place sound caught his attention. 

The noise came again, and he realized it was someone knocking very quietly on the front door. He considered going to wake up Bilba, but decided against it. He’d married her after all, which meant Bag End was now his home as much as hers and he had every right to answer the door. 

Especially considering that doing so would give him an excuse to step outside and enjoy the morning air. Really, the thought of being on a quest, outdoors, for the next few months suddenly didn’t seem quite so bad. 

He pulled the heavy door open, and paused in surprise.

There was no one there. 

A polite peep sounded near his feet and he looked down. 

Three baby dragons stood there. One, smaller than Mander, was hunched down nervously, and stood very close to the other two. The second, about Mandar’s size but with a more slender build, was studying him with its head tilted to the one side. The third was quite a bit larger than Mandar, and currently stretched all the way up on his heels, studying him curiously. 

“Let me guess,” Fili asked. “You want Mandar?”

The larger one, clearly the leader of the small group, bobbed his head and chirped. As he did the second turned his head to chatter something, only to fall silent as the first one gave a short response without taking his eyes off Fili. 

“All right,” Fili said. “Just a second.” He started to turn, hesitated, and turned back, only to frown as his eyes found two dragons now on the stoop. “Where did your friend go?” He’d barely turned away for a second, how’d the little guy move so fast?

One of the two left turned to the other and made a noise that sounded like a question. The other chattered back and then both turned to gaze up at him innocently. 

Fili frowned. “Just...stay here, all right? I’ll be right back.”

That earned him what he assumed were peeps of affirmation so he pushed the door almost closed and went back to the room. He stayed near the door for a moment, unsure of what he should do, before quietly saying, “Mandar?”

There was instant movement under the blankets and then the dragon’s head popped up with a questioning peep. 

“Your friends are at the door,” Fili said. It felt more than a little odd to be talking to a dragon, but the small creatures had already shown they could understand. 

Mandar gave an excited chirp, and started to scramble toward Fili, only to stop with a squawk as a hand emerged from the blankets and grabbed his tail. 

“How many of his friends were at the door when you answered it?” Bilba’s tired voice came from under the blankets.

“Three,” Fili said. 

“And when you came back to get him?”

“Two,” Fili answered, wondering why it mattered. 

She muttered something under her breath and pushed the blankets back until he could see her sprawled out on her back, staring at the ceiling. Mandar twisted around as much as he could and started chattering at her. 

Bilba grabbed him around the midsection and lifted him so she could look up at him. “Don’t go far, you understand? We’ll be leaving soon.” Mandar chirruped an agreement and Bilba set him down. He bounded off the bed, only to freeze as Bilba spoke again. “Mandar. Not a word.”

He chirped, and then scrambled over to the door, sank back and gave Fili a hopeful look. Fili opened the door a crack and the small dragon bounded out, claws skittering on the floor as he raced toward the door. “What was that last bit about?” he asked as he closed the door again. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” She scowled at the ceiling. “Why did I agree to this thing again?”

“I’m pretty,” Fili said dryly.

Bilba let out a long, irritated, exhale. She half fell out of bed, stumbled over to the overstuffed closet and fell to her knees with a heavy thud. Her hair had somehow fallen out of the braid he’d put it in and she shoved it back with a grumble before staring at the mess in the closet with a deep frown. Muttering to herself, she leaned forward and began rooting about, sometimes tossing random items behind her until she finally made a small sound of triumph and sat back, a box clutched in her hands. 

For a few seconds, she simply stared at it before carefully setting it on the ground and opening the lid. Fili moved closer just as she lifted a small jumble of delicate chains and beads out. The beads, surprisingly, called to mind dwarven beads which begged the question of which culture had been the primary influence. 

She lifted them up to her ear and Fili realized what he was seeing was an intricate earring. A gold bead, carved with runes and symbols, clamped to the upper part of her ear. From there, thin chains of silver, gold and bronze ran down to a second, matching bead that clamped to her earlobe. The remaining chains hung nearly halfway down the length of her neck before ending in tiny scales. 

Bilba gave her head a small shake, sending the chains flying wildly, before holding up the second earring to him. “You need to wear this.”

Fili went down on one knee and took the earring, finding it surprisingly light. He started to put it on, only to frown in confusion. It hadn’t seemed all that difficult when she’d put it on but, looking at it now, it seemed like a hopeless pile of discordant parts. 

Bilba made an amused sound, got up on her knees and shuffled forward. “Here, let me do it.”

Fili obediently handed the earring over and held still as she carefully set it in place on his ear. The action brought her closer than she probably realized and, when she started to settle back, Fili snagged her around the waist and gently pulled her in. 

Bilba’s eyes widened in surprise. She set her hands on his forearms but didn’t attempt to push away. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone mildly annoyed. 

She had gold in her eyes, Fili realized as he took the opportunity to study her. Her body was slender and delicate, by dwarven standards anyway, but also lean and fit under her shift. “I’m assuming these show your people that we’re married?”

She’d been studying his arms with a frown, but now lifted her eyes to look at him. “Yes.” She lightly touched the earring he wore, fingers tracing along the chains. “They belonged to my parents.”

Past tense, Fili noted. He started to ask about them, but decided she’d have elaborated had she wished to share more. Instead, he risked reaching out to lightly run his knuckles along her cheek, before tracing his fingers back into her hair. “If I’m going to wear this, it’s only fair that I get to put a bead and braid in your hair.”

Bilba’s eyes narrowed. “That tells your people that you’re mine?”

“It does,” Fili said with amusement. 

Bilba pulled away and sat down, looking up at him expectantly. Fili retrieved one of his extra beads, and a brush and returned to sit down in front of her. He put in a simple braid that ran from the center of her forehead, along the edge of her face and back into her hair before securing it with the bead. Traditionally, a more elaborate braid would be designed and put in but he had a strong feeling she wouldn’t sit still for it. 

It was also unlikely his uncle would be willing to spare the time needed for such an endeavor. The bead was the most important component, as long as it was present, any dwarf who saw her would know she was spoken for. 

He got up and held his hand. She grabbed it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She looked in the mirror, one hand going to lightly touch the braid and bead. Her face was unreadable, giving no insight as to what she thought of it. 

“We should probably get dressed,” he said, grabbing his shirt. “My uncle will want to leave as soon as possible, and I’d like to try and grab breakfast first.”

He saw her eyes rise to meet his in the glass, but she made no comment. Instead she simply moved to her dresser and retrieved a tunic and trousers that looked almost identical to the ones she’d been wearing the day before. She dressed quickly, strapped on a belt that had a knife in a scabbard hanging off it, then dug out a pair of gloves and added heavy boots and a cape. 

She found a backpack and began stuffing a hodgepodge of items in it, everything from clothes to weapons to random knick knacks she snatched off the floor. Fili started to question the wisdom in weighing herself down with useless items, but then wisely thought twice and decided to stay silent. 

She stood and slung the bag over her shoulder. “Are you going to get dressed, or just stand there staring at me?”

Fili gave her a cocky grin. “I thought you might like to enjoy the view for a few minutes before we left.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can see your hair all the time.” She scowled, as if remembering something, and then went to grab her hairbrush again. She lifted it toward her head, hesitated, and then asked, “is it okay to put my hair up?”

There it was, Fili thought, the uncertainty under all the bravado. He’d caught glimpses of it the night before, and wondered why that side of her was so carefully hidden when in the presence of others. He had a feeling she’d have hidden it from him if it weren’t for the effort it would take to keep it up every second of the day instead of simply when in public. 

“It’s fine.” He held his hand out for the brush. “Allow me.”

She nodded and gave him the brush. He quickly plaited her hair up into a braid, wrapped it around itself and bound it at the base of her skull. He left the marriage braid and bead free and draped over her shoulder. 

He got dressed after that and was mildly pleased that she waited for him, even through the admittedly long process of placing his weapons in all their various locations. He leaned over to slide his boot knives in, straightened, and found her directly in front of him. 

She held a dagger out, the same one he remembered admiring the night before. “You can have this one,” she said, voice brusque. “If you want.”

Fili nodded and gently took it from her. “Thank you.” 

She nodded. “Oh, wait.” She dropped down next to her bed, scrabbled under it for a few seconds, and came back up with a sheath for the blade. 

Fili slid the dagger in, put it on his belt and let out a sigh. He was about to suggest they both head out to breakfast, when a knock sounded on the bedroom door. 

Bilba immediately tensed. A hardness came over her face and Fili knew the young woman he’d briefly met a handful of times in the room was gone for at least the foreseeable future. 

He opened the door to reveal Ori standing on the other side, nervously wringing his hands. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but there’s kind of a crowd gathering outside.”

Fili turned to look questioningly at Bilba who let out a sound of disgust. “Couldn’t even wait until after breakfast, could they?”

Her eyes went dark and he could almost feel the anger radiating off her. 

“It’s inconsiderate,” he started to say, only to have her growl in irritation. 

“It’s disrespect.” She stalked toward the door. “Stay here. I’ll deal with them.”

Fili fell in alongside her. “We’re married now, remember? We’ll deal with them together.”

A startled look flickered in her eyes, and then vanished. “Remember when I said I was the reasonable one?”

“Yeah?” Fili asked.

She scowled. “You’re about to find out why.”


	5. Chapter 5

Ori hadn’t been exaggerating when he said there was a crowd gathering outside.

When Bilba pulled the door open, there were at least twenty hobbits clustered on the lane running in front of the house, with more coming every minute.

Bilba made an irritated sound. “Stay here, and don’t speak to anyone.”

Fili frowned. “I thought--”

“Stay here,” she repeated, sharply. She strode down the walkway, leaving him standing in the doorway.

Sensing a presence behind him, Fili half turned to see Kili approaching.

“Are you all right?” Kili stopped next to him and studied him as if looking for injuries.

Fili resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Clearly.”

Kili scowled. “I barely slept last night. I kept wanting to burst in and—"

“And what?” Fili asked dryly. “Ensure she hadn’t murdered me in my sleep? That would have been ridiculous, not to mention without cause.”

Kili crossed his arms, and fidgeted, something he only did when he was about to say, or do, something particularly stupid. “So,” he started, finally, only to stop and clear his throat. “Did she make you sleep on the floor or did she let you – I mean – did you – or –”

“I hardly think that’s any of your business,” Fili growled, cutting him off. Kili was now the second member of the Company who seemed to feel it was their place to intrude on what happened between him and his wife behind closed doors, and it was two more than he planned to tolerate.

On the lane below, Bilba was confronting the crowd. Fili couldn’t hear what was being said, but he didn’t like the way she was being surrounded and almost backed against the gate. Her stance was angry, defiant even, but her position from a defensive standpoint was…not great. Had he been in her position he’d have spoken to them from the yard, letting the fence and gate serve as a natural break between them. Some might have called it cowardice, but it would have put forward a stronger position than the one she was in now.

“So what?” Kili asked, defensively. “You’re on her side now?”

Fili let out an irritated breath, eyes not leaving his new wife. “I married her, Kili. I happen to take that seriously.” Even if she didn’t, or at least hadn’t given much thought to the severity of what she’d done.

“So she _did_ marry you,” a lilting voice spoke from right next to Fili’s ear. “I can’t say I blame her, though I do wish she’d have given it a _little_ more consideration.”

Fili and Kili jumped a foot and whirled to see a woman standing next to the stoop. She looked about the age that Bilba pretended she was, with dark hair tied back in a neat bun. She wore a blue dress with an apron and was idly rocking back and forth on her heels, hands clasped behind her back with an innocent look in her eyes.

Fili wasn’t fooled.

For one thing, he had no idea how she’d gotten there. The front yard was completely enclosed by a fence, with the only entrance or exit being the gate that Bilba was currently standing against. There was no logical way for someone to have gotten inside the fence, especially unnoticed, and, yet, here she was.

The second thing was that Fili knew he was intimidating. It wasn’t a matter of pride or ego; it was simple fact. Dwarves were warriors. They were big, and naturally prone to being muscled. They trained to fight from a young age, and the people of Middle Earth knew that. It was normal to see people cross to the other side of the street to avoid him or watch him nervously when he entered a tavern to eat. They did the same to the others in the Company.

Well, except for Ori, but he was the outlier, not the norm. 

In either event, _he_ wasn’t Ori, and yet this tiny sprite of a woman who didn’t even come up to his chin showed not even a hint of concern at having approached a strange dwarf on her own. If anything, given her attitude, she might be standing near a friend or neighbor she’d known for years. It was either extreme naivety…or extreme confidence.

“I think,” he said, slowly, “that Bilba told me not to speak to anyone.”

Her smile broadened, to something with an odd edge to it. “Did she? Well, she certainly didn’t mean me.” She studied him closely, a strange light in her eyes. It was, Fili realized, quite like what he’d seen in Bilba’s eyes when she’d first seen him. And now that he thought of it, there were people in the crowd with their gazes fixed on him in a way that suddenly had him feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

“Maybe you should go inside,” Kili said in a low voice next to him.

“Coward,” the woman tsked, without heat. She frowned down toward the group. Most had drifted off, but there were a few left that Bilba seemed to be individually threatening. “I can see why she did it,” the woman murmured. “A war in the Shire wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

“A war?” Fili asked in surprise. “You’re joking.”

“I never joke.” She turned that unsettling gaze back on him. “Are there any more of you?” She gestured vaguely to his hair as she spoke. She hadn’t even acknowledged Kili, which Fili imagined was probably at least a bit of a blow to his ego. His little brother was generally considered extremely attractive by the standard of almost every race. Fili was far more used to watching his _brother_ be fought over, not him.

“No,” Fili said, shortly, and mentally reaffirmed his decision to never let his father set foot anywhere near the Shire. Given how close Ered Luin was, it was a miracle that neither of them had ever run into this problem before now. 

“Pity,” the woman said, sounding genuinely regretful. “Bilba’s lucky she got to you first.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it.” Bilba said, striding up the path toward them. Behind her, the lane was mostly clear with only a few stragglers standing just beyond the borders of the fence line. “They wanted an alliance. I gave it to them.”

“Did they now?” the woman’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all they wanted?”

To Fili’s surprise, Bilba’s eyes darted away from the woman and focused on some random spot in the far distance. “I’ll be leaving for a while. Immediately.”

The woman let out a hiss. “Bilba, you know you can’t do that. Not now. The Council—”

“The Council can pound rocks,” Bilba grumbled. She crossed her arms and, for a brief second, reminded Fili of a defiant teenager. Once again, he questioned just how old she was. Sometimes she seemed older, and others much, much younger. No one seemed to be concerned over the idea of her being married so much as the way she’d went about it, however, so he was figured she must be considered of age at the very least.

The words she’d said registered and he frowned in surprise. “The Council? What Council?” And why would they care what one of their residents did or didn’t do?

The woman’s eyes narrowed and turned calculating. “Bilba, please tell me you explained things to your new husband before you married him.”

Bilba rolled her eyes. “I told him what he needs to know?”

“Which was basically marry me or I won’t kill a dragon for you,” Kili volunteered helpfully.

“Kill a dragon?” the woman asked, sounding genuinely stunned. “What dragon?”

Bilba muttered something under her breath and stomped past them, into Bag End. “I’m leaving, and that’s final! I don’t care what the cursed _Council_ has to say about it!”

The woman sighed in exasperation and followed her. “You know you can’t just do whatever you want, and you certainly can’t just leave!”

Bilba spun to a stop just before the entryway of the living room. Inside, Fili spotted his uncle and most of the company in various stages of eating or packing.

The woman noticed them too and suddenly switched to a language Fili had never heard, the words all sharp edges and harsh, guttural sounds. Bilba switched into the same language and the two proceeded to have what sounded like an extremely aggressive argument.

As the words grew more heated, Gandalf appeared from nowhere and stepped between the two women. “Now, now, why don’t we—”

“Silence, _wizard_ ,” Bilba snarled. Her voice was thunderous and sounded very much like Thorin’s when he was particularly enraged. “You’re the last one I want to hear from.” She glared at the other woman, before whirling around and heading toward her room. 

“Bilba,” the woman, whose name Fili still didn’t know, in frustration. “The Council has to have heard by now. They’ll be—”

“I hope they are on their way,” Bilba interrupted, the tone of her voice deceptively light and airy. “I’ll turn them to ash where they stand.” She punctuated the last word by slamming her door, closing herself inside and the rest of them out.

Fili heard a quiet chatter near his feet and looked down to see Mandar standing on his haunches, two claws lightly holding onto Fili’s trouser leg as he stared at Bilba’s door.

“She’s fine, Mandar,” the woman said, with a long-suffering sigh. She held her arm down, fist closed. Mandar leapt up, grabbed her fist and dragged his body up and onto her arm. He swarmed up, curled around her neck and tucked his head under her chin.

“Should I go talk to her?” Fili asked. He had no idea what he’d even say, but figured he at least had some obligation to try.

“No, I’ll handle it.” Mandar lifted his head and chattered at her and she absently scratched his eye ridge. “Is that so?”

Suddenly tired of how she was being deliberately vague and cutting him out, Fili cleared his throat. “How about this?” He swept into a proper bow. “Fili, son of Vili, at your service. And you are?”

He wasn’t being…entirely polite in his attitude, tone, or mannerisms and the way a slow smile spread over her face showed she recognized it. 

“You might just do.” She turned to face Gandalf, who’d been standing there the entire time, being firmly ignored. “Now, _Wizard_ , you can come explain to me why you intentionally bypassed me when you came through last night. It had better be an _exceptionally_ good explanation.”

Mandar scrambled off her shoulders and landed back on the ground near Fili’s feet as the woman led Gandalf off toward the kitchen.

Kili frowned after them. “It is just me, or did Gandalf look _nervous_?”

Fili silently agreed. The wizard _had_ looked quite nervous.

At his feet, Mandar chirruped at him and then spun around and scampered back out the open door, off to where several of his friends were waiting perched along the top of the fence near the gate.

Fili sighed. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be getting answers any time soon. He cast one final look down toward the room of his new wife and then headed into the living room to speak to his uncle.

***

Bilba was curled under her covers, content to sleep until everything that irritated her died of old age, when she heard the door open.

“I will roast you,” she threatened.

“You most certainly will not.”

Bilba grumbled, shoved the covers back and sat up. At the door, Primula carefully closed the door and stood in front of it, arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t give me that look,” Bilba muttered. “You know I had no choice. They’d have fought over him.”

Primula gave her a knowing look. “Let’s not pretend the safety of the Shire and her people were top of your mind, my dear. You claimed him because you wanted him, and then came up with the argument after in hopes of placating me. I’m mildly insulted you thought it would work.”

“It wasn’t to placate _you_ ,” Bilba corrected. “It was to try and placate the _Council_.”

“Yes,” Primula said dryly, “Because placating the Council is always top of your mind.”

“Are they here?” Bilba asked. “Can I kill them?”

“No,” Primula said shortly. “At least not yet.” She shook her head. “What exactly _are_ you thinking? You know you can’t leave, not now.”

“Yes, I can.” Bilba scrambled off the bed. “It’s perfect, all of it. Think about it. They keep insisting that I’m too young, right? That I’m inexperienced and haven’t proven my strength.”

“I hardly think they intended you to take on a high dragon.”

Bilba rolled her eyes. “Oh, they’ll be thrilled. They’ll hope I die in the attempt and save them the problem of having me assassinated. I get rid of that smug asshole and bring back a ton of gold and no one will ever question me again.” She almost skipped forward, coming to a stop just in front of Primula. “ _And_ , my new mate is a crown prince, did you know that? He helps his uncle rule in Ered Luin. No one can complain about my lack of experience with him at my side.”

“How long did it take you to come up with that?” Primula asked. She sounded mildly amused, which Bilba took as a positive sign.

“Almost all night,” she confessed cheerfully.

“Uh-huh,” Primula said. “And who’s going to keep the Shire running while you’re gone? I know you’re not expecting the Thain to do it.”

“Of course not,” Bilba said with disgust. “He’d sell me out before I’d made it out of Hobbiton.” She put her arms behind her back and adopted what she hoped was an innocent expression. It had been a long time since she’d been allowed any expression at all, so she wasn’t entirely sure she remembered how to do it correctly. “I’d hoped you would agree to take over while I’m gone. You’re practically in charge already, and you’re the only one I can trust to not stab me in the back, literally _and_ figuratively.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

Bilba waved a hand absently. “You’ll do great, and you’ll have Lobelia and the boys too.”

Primula shook her head. “They’re going to kill you when they get back.” She sighed and chewed on her lower lip. She wasn’t outright saying not, and Bilba knew she’d probably already concluded that what was done was done. “You should take someone with you.”

“It’d violate like five treaties.” The stupid, idiotic, wildly unfair and unbalanced treaties that she planned to have changed as soon as possible. “Only one of us is allowed past Bree at a time.”

Primula scowled. “I don’t like it.”

“It’ll be fine,” Bilba insisted. “I’ll be gone a few months--”

“Months?” Primula interjected. “Why in the world will you be gone that long? It should only take a few hours!”

“Treaties,” Bilba reminded her. “Plus we don’t want to telegraph to that oversized worm that we’re coming. We’ll get there the annoying way, and back the quick way.”

“You talk like you’re trying to convince me, but you’ve already done it, haven’t you?” Primula said in annoyance. “Even down to laying claim to their heir. You know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

Bilba shrugged. “I know. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m disappointed in you,” Primula said, and Bilba flinched. “I let you stay here alone because I trusted you to behave properly.”

“You’re the one who keeps insisting I act an adult,” Bilba shot back. “Then you go and get angry when I make a decision without consulting you first, like an _adult_.”

She started to push past the other woman, only to stop as Primula grabbed her arm. “Bilba, did you really not tell him anything?”

Bilba tensed and crossed her arms. “He didn’t need to know anything,” she said defensively. A thin thread of guilt raced through her, but she stubbornly ignored it.

Primula closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then opened them again. “Bilba, do you have any idea the danger you’ve put him in?”

The feeling of guilt intensified. “That wasn’t my intent. I told you, he’s a crown prince. I’m sure he’s used to being in danger.”

“Danger he _knows_ about,” Primula corrected gently. “Threats he knows to look for, and where to look.” She put her hands on Bilba’s shoulders. “What you did to him was unfair, and unkind.”

Bilba tensed. “It’s a little late now.”

Primula squeezed her shoulders. “You need to tell him the truth and give him the option to refute the match.”

Anger flashed through her, and Bilba jerked away from the other woman. “He’s _mine_. You just want him for yourself!”

“Bilba.” Primula’s voice held a warning, and Bilba felt her temperature rise. “He’s a person, not a possession. You can’t just claim him.”

“I already did,” Bilba bit out. Her mind raced. “If he refutes the match, then he’ll be available again. The entire Shire will want him.”

“I didn’t say it had to happen here, or that it had to be public.” Primula moved closer, into Bilba’s personal space. Bilba growled low in her throat but looked away, refusing to meet the other woman’s eyes. “I mean it, Bilba. You can’t just go around claiming anyone you want. Give him the option. You know I’m right.”

Bilba did, and she also knew the other woman was doing her a kindness by challenging her in private. Still, the _last_ thing she wanted to do was offer Fili a chance to refute her.

He probably would, if given the chance. She’d pretty much strong armed him into marrying her, and she had nothing to offer. Power? He had it. Wealth? He had that too. If anything, marrying her hurt him, just as Primula said. It put him in more danger, and would make his life a whole lot harder, and for what?

Literally, the only benefit she could offer was herself.

She made a disgusted sound and, with a pointed glare at Primula, she stalked out of the room.

She was pretty sure she was about to go down in legend as having the shortest marriage in recorded history.

***

“I need to speak to you.”

Fili broke off speaking to Balin and turned to see Bilba standing behind him, arms crossed and looking royally pissed off. Kili would say she always looked like that, and he wasn’t _wrong_ , but given that he could almost feel the anger radiating off her, he guessed this time around it was a little stronger than usual.

She turned and stalked off, and he obediently followed her, through the kitchen and out the back door of Bag End. He shut the door and turned to face her. Past her, in the light of day, he could see rolling fields, trees and a wide lake. It was a beautiful scene, and he felt a momentary burst of regret that there would be no time to simply sit and appreciate it.

At least they were starting their journey with pleasant weather.

“I’m Queen of the Shire.”

Fili’s mind blanked for a second. “You’re the what?”

“Queen,” Bilba repeated, irritated. “Which makes you the king, more or less, and the list of people who want to kill you is probably a lot longer now, or will be when they find out.” She crossed her arms and scowled toward the field as if its existence was personally offending her. “SoIfYouWantToRefuteMeYouCan.”

The words were spoken in such a rush that it took several minutes for Fili to understand them. Then the full weight of everything she’d said to him crashed down on him, and he suddenly had the strong desire to go back to bed and see if things might, somehow, be magically better once he woke up. 

So much for thinking it would be a pleasant day.


End file.
